


The Painting

by Galaxiel_AXA



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M, One Shot, scary story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxiel_AXA/pseuds/Galaxiel_AXA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't let loneliness consumed you, or you will fall under it's claws...</p><p>Finder is owned by Ayano Yamane. I have no claim with anything on this finder characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Painting

Somewhere in Tokyo inside a luxurious penthouse, a man is having another dream. He’s tossing and turning, chest heaving up and down. Inside his dreams he was running away from something in desperate sprint for his life.

He would sometimes stop to catch his breath and chance a frequent glance over his shoulder, but he couldn’t see anything, just a complete body of darkness catching up to him. His heart is pounding he could feel its beating in his ears. His legs are burning, muscles protesting.

He moves his legs forward one foot in front of the other determined to get away.

The scenery often changes one after another like a movie flicks.

Sometimes the dream will start inside an identical red corridor, or a long isolated road, a bush land filled with thick grass, but it will always end up in the forest with a cottage.

He would stumble and trip after seeing the cottage in the distance and then the darkness would engulf him.

Asami Ryuichi would wake up after that. Bathing in sweat, ragged breaths, and throat dry and raspy. He couldn’t understand what it was, but its been happening now for a week, since he received the letter about his Aunt Cabin he inherited up in the mountains. He should visit her grave and the property really soon.

After Akihito left him. He had countless affairs. He never believes about that fickle thing called love. He thought they were all saps; to prevent heartache all he had to do was to forget that they even existed. Asami thought all man or women were detestable. Those hateful little sprites, fluttering around looking beautiful while destroying men’s' lives.

Only he knew the ugliness that lay just beneath the surface of their skin.  His mind turned this thought over as he slogged his way to the cottage through the early evening downpour. There was one male, however, that was sublime. He could barely wait till he came home and laid his eyes upon...HIM.

As he rushes into his temporary home excitedly, dumping his damp coat absent-mindedly on the recliner, he falls to his knees in front of a large painting hanging above the mantle on his fireplace. Panting and shivering from the cold rain, he fixates his obsessions upon him.

The Perfect Lover he had dubbed it.

And indeed, that is what he was. Only a few days ago he had painted him, the paint still casting its oily and vivid luminescence into the stark confines of his parlor. He had taken a liking to arts and actually painted his very own first masterpiece.

The minute he had finished the last stroke of the brush, he had been entranced with its beauty. In his silent wisdom, he seemed to understand Asami’s loneliness. There was no complaining, no insults, no remarks and comebacks. Just his voiceless, and pitying stare. He merely existed in the painting, and did not berate him about his shortcomings like most wives were accustomed to doing to their husbands.

He woke often in the middle of the night; usually sweating and the imaginary feel of those lips leaving their delicate imprint on his own. Even in his dreams, he engrossed his thoughts. He would never truly be alone when he had his flawless painted beauty attending to his needs. The painting consumed his entire being.

He often said sweet words to his immobile face, and left gifts of flowers to lay redolent at his feet. Something he hadn’t done in the past no matter how important the person was. Asami became so comfortable with this routine; he would mutter his preoccupied musings to him. Again, he looked as if to be captivated by his words. 

One unearthly evening, he lay in bed, restless and unable to sleep. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the Moon had hid her silvery face behind thick clouds. In the gloom, the wind exhaled its cool breath against the curtains in his window, causing them to billow further into his bedroom.

He sat up quickly then. He could've sworn he had heard some silken voice call to him above the breeze. Throwing on his robe and slippers, he ambles quickly from his abode.

Behind his cottage, there was a dense grove of forest. From inside the thick woods he hears the alluring voice again, asking him to come closer. Obediently, Asami walks toward the darkened expanse under the moss-covered tree limbs. To his surprise, he sees a pale figure under one particularly gnarled branch. Tall, slender, brown hair blowing in the wind, near the tree he waits for him.  Replicas of his forgotten love Akihito.

His painted delectable lover in flesh standing in front of him, fisting his knuckles into his eyes and rubbing savagely, he clears the cobwebs from his eyes and blinks furiously. It's just too dark for him to see, but he knows it's him it has to be Akihito. 

"Love, I have waited for you endlessly," he breathes, and Asami rushes to be encircled by those arms he had missed. Joyful union complete, the glade resounds with their amorous pairing. No moment could compare to this one. Asami felt that he had lived a life unfulfilled up to this very second. He felt as if he would drown in those hazel eyes, and suffocate upon those ambrosial lips.

Spent, they roll over onto their backs to recline on a soft bed of leaves and stare up into the inky sky. 

Feeling at peace, Asami watches a bank of clouds dance away, revealing a bright full Moon that suffuses the evening with flared luminosity. He turns his head to look into his lover’s eyes, and he does the same.

Much to his horror, he sees that those eyes glow with malice, his teeth are elongated into fangs, and his claws seem to leap out of his spindly fingers.

He springs from his spot on the grass, howling in disappointment and fear. Fleeing from him, the trees seem to grab at his clothes and impede his escape. He trips over a large tree root, and unceremoniously falls to the ground.

He knows it's too late, he could hear those repugnant heavy breathing behind him. Staring his fate in those glowing eyes, he watches as his former flame sheds his disguise as he runs ever quicker to him much like his haunting dreams. Underneath all that pretty skin was some sordid and vile demon lurking for its prey to come.

His dreams were a premonition and a warning, but it was too late. He was already consumed by the loneliness far too long.

..........Somewhere, some disillusioned lover screams his death throes into the dark night...

Somewhere, in some barren cottage, there is a painting above a fireplace that stands empty, its centerpiece having left its prison...A replica of a young man lurking in the shadow waiting for its next prey....

 

THE END....

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually an original works of mine and my friend who move to Korea...She love paranormal, myths and ghost just like me...I didn't post anything scary since I don't know how everyone would react to it, and I had forgotten all about it...After reading Lullaby it just dawn on me, I have all this scary things we've created about 3 years ago...This is for my close friend Katie H. enjoy Korea with your hubby.
> 
> I modified the content to suit a very lonely Asami.
> 
> Please enjoy and don't kill me for it...LOL!!!


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